CHAPTER 33
I couldn’t understand and only blinked my eyes.
Ron was safe—what was that supposed to mean?
The duke’s face was twisted with a complicated expression.
After thinking for a long moment, he slowly opened his mouth.
“Anne, how did you come to see Ron?”
Uncharacteristically, the duke’s voice held no strength.
I couldn’t tell him everything exactly as it happened, so I revealed only part of the truth:
that I had been taking a magic lesson with Kautz in the forest, and by chance I found Ron in a cave.
When it came to how I recognized him, I was honest.
I said I was able to tell because I had seen a picture of Ron’s face in the playroom.
The duke’s gaze followed mine to the drawing lying on the playroom floor.
Then slowly, he took something from his coat.
“Anne.”
It was a letter he had received from someone.
I could tell because the sender’s handwriting was written on the back.
[From D]
“Who is D?”
“You’ll know once you read it.”
I immediately opened the letter.
And just as the duke had said, I understood at once who D was.
[The child with the red eyes is alive]
The meaning packed into that short line was enormous.
The child with red eyes.
It could only mean Ron Kerace.
It felt as if something heavy had struck me on the head.
Seeing my shock, the duke slowly nodded.
“Correct. It’s a letter from Dveulle.”
“…So you already knew where Ron was?”
At my words, the duke shook his head.
“I first saw the boy at the slave market.”
“……!”
In that instant, the image of Ron locked inside the lion cage overlapped with the duke watching him.
“I thought it couldn’t be. That it wasn’t Ron… because my son couldn’t possibly be in a slave market.”
The duke’s eyes dropped heavily.
“But a corner of my heart kept aching.
Even if he wasn’t Ron, I wanted to save that child.”
“…Then the reason you left first that day…”
“Yes. I couldn’t move easily after seeing you and Shavert injured, but once I heard that the boy had been sold to Dveulle, I couldn’t stay put.”
When I woke injured in the hotel room after being attacked by an assassin, the duke had said he left earlier because of another matter.
That “matter” was searching for Ron.
Suddenly, a question came to me.
“But why didn’t you rescue him right away?”
Had he taken action that day, he would’ve been able to save Ron from Dveulle.
The duke hesitated for a long time before speaking, his eyes falling to the letter clenched in my hand.
“Because that child really was Ron.”
*
Inside the spacious drawing room.
I had been standing here alone for hours.
“Even the more I look… they really do resemble each other.”
In the framed portrait on the wall, the four brothers stood on either side of their young grandfather seated in the center.
No matter how many times I stared, they all clearly shared the same features.
As I looked at that unsmiling portrait, the duke’s words from last night rose in my mind.
‘We weren’t actually four brothers. I had an older brother.
But he was killed at a young age by an assassin.’
It clearly wasn’t easy for the duke to dig up something buried decades ago, yet he continued speaking.
‘Back then, being born into the Kerace bloodline meant death was simply a fact of life.
But once I became a father raising a child… I couldn’t help it.
When I lost Ron in the forest, it felt as if my whole world collapsed.’
The duke wanted to save his son.
Once he realized the child in the lion cage was Ron, he desperately searched for a way to keep him alive.
He had never thought Ron’s disappearance was just a simple missing-child case.
If Ron returned just like this, what would happen?
Another disappearance? Or death?
‘Aria… even as she was dying, she told me this:
to save Ron, even at the cost of her own life.’
Remembering the duke recalling his second wife’s last words made my breath catch.
In the end, he chose to leave Ron in Dveulle’s hands.
He hid the fact that he had found his son, and struck a secret deal with the leader of Dveulle.
‘No one must ever know Ron Kerace is alive.
Not until the culprit is found.’
The duke had repeated this to me again and again.
‘The duke, the butler Dubier, you, Kautz, and the leader of Dveulle.’
Only five people knew of Ron’s existence.
Until Ron gained the strength to protect himself, everything had to remain hidden.
‘When I met him in the cave… Ron didn’t seem to remember his own name.’
‘He seems to have lost his recent memories after going missing.
That’s what Dveulle reported.’
Seeing me struggle with the truth, the duke said:
‘Anne, do you know our family motto?’
‘Yes. The brothers of Kerace… must—’
‘Must survive to the very end.’
He finished the motto in my place and forced a small smile.
Somehow, that smile looked a little sad.
Shavert, Ron, and Krimu—the duke hoped more than anyone that all three brothers would survive.
As we parted in the playroom, I had asked the duke one last question:
‘Duke… why are you telling me all this?’
The duke had smiled gently.
‘Because you’re Marianne of the magic family, aren’t you?’
He remembered my usual catchphrase, answering playfully.
“……”
It had happened only hours ago last night.
But it felt like something I would remember for the rest of my life.
With a sigh, I finally pulled myself out of my thoughts.
I simply needed to wait until the duke called for me.
He said Ron was safe and being secretly protected by Dveulle, so I decided not to panic anymore.
‘Just wait a little, Ron…’
There was no one who longed for Ron more desperately than the duke.
‘Soon, let’s send a letter to Ron together.’
Recalling the duke’s last words, I clenched my hands tightly and stepped outside the drawing room.
*
The prisoners in the dungeon were mostly vicious criminals.
All of them had stolen or committed acts of violence more than once, eventually ending up in Dveulle.
Dveulle sorted them as if sorting merchandise—
those useful for labor,
and those who weren’t.
But there was someone who fit into neither group.
A young boy.
“Kid’s not normal. Be careful, Matt.”
“No kidding. Not only did he run farther than any of us, he was caught last.”
A large man stuck his face between the iron bars and spoke to the man across from him.
Their eyes were fixed on a small room.
There, an ankle chained by iron, a young child lay collapsed.
His body was covered in scrapes and wounds.
When the child’s foot twitched, the heavy chain clattered loudly.
Soon, his crushed lashes slowly lifted, revealing bright red eyes.
The large man shouted:
“Those eyes creep me out. Hey, lion cub!”
“Lion cub” was the name the boy had been given since the slave market.
He hadn’t cried even when thrown into the lion cage; everyone assumed that meant he had been raised in Dveulle.
“Damn brat! When someone calls you, you get up!”
The rough-looking prisoner across the hall spat through the bars.
“If they even gave you a private cell just ’cause you’re the lion cub, you should at least listen!”
“Hey—someone’s coming! Quiet!”
At the other man’s warning, he pounded the bars threateningly, then sat back down.
Men covered in Dveulle’s tattooed markings entered.
They opened cell doors with practiced motions and moved the adult prisoners one by one.
Soon the dungeon, noisy with movement, fell silent.
It was time for the adult prisoners to leave for labor.
During this time of day, the boy was always left alone.
It was the only time he looked forward to.
“……”
In the empty cell, the red eyes opened again.
The child’s mind remained in the day inside the cave.
‘A monster! Run!’
The day a horde of monsters suddenly attacked—
He had run frantically among the fleeing adult slaves.
Only twelve years old, yet the instinct to survive pulsed in his chest.
After running and running, he finally realized he had ended up inside a strange cave.
His body was on the verge of collapsing; he couldn’t take another step.
A small puppy was beside him.
Perhaps abandoned in the forest, it wandered without a mother.
The child hugged the puppy tightly.
It felt like holding a reflection of himself.
As his lashes began to close—
‘…Did you escape from somewhere?’
A lantern’s light filled his vision—
and a beautiful boy he had never seen before.
‘Hold still. I’m checking if you’re badly hurt.’
The boy checking his injuries spoke with a gentle voice.
‘…I’m Ren.’
That was the boy’s name.
The one who wrapped him in a warm cloak and gave him water—
His name was Ren.
The child tried hard to remember it.
The soft hand patting him.
The eyes filled with concern.
Was it a dream?
But his heart pounded so vividly.
His whole body wrapped warmly in thick clothes.
He liked watching Ren talk to the little puppy.
For the first time, the child wished for something desperately:
to never wake up from this dream.
‘Ron…is. Do you remember? Ron!’
Ron.
Ren had clearly spoken the name Ron.
Who was Ron?
The child envied that boy, whoever he was—
that someone would call his name so earnestly.
The name “lion cub” echoed in his memory.
Days he wanted to forget.
He hugged his knees and rested his head on them.
And he made a small wish.
‘I wish… I were Ron.’
The boy that Ren desperately searched for.
He wished he could be that child.
He didn’t remember anything from early childhood.
All he knew was that he had always been a slave child, dragged from place to place.
Sometimes nightmares plagued him—
Maybe they were memories.
A boy wandering endlessly in a dark forest.
A boy being dragged away by rough hands.
Whenever he woke from that dream, he cried.
Curling up even smaller, he thought of Ren again.
‘Ren’s hair… had grown longer…’
When Ren stood up to leave, saying he’d come back,
somehow his once-short hair had grown long, swaying softly.
The concerned face looking down at him wasn’t a boy’s anymore—but a girl’s.
He blinked, opened and closed his eyes again,
but Ren’s figure kept drifting away, long hair trailing behind.
As if his true form had revealed itself.
The boy tilted his head slightly, but only one thought filled him:
‘Ren… I miss you…’
Whether Ren was a boy or girl didn’t matter.
Ren had been the one warm ray of light in his life.
The child engraved every piece of Ren into his heart.
If you’d like, I can continue translating the next chapter as well.
